Original subtitles

This is the city, Los Angeles, California.

It's not a bad place for a boy to do his growing up.

He can get a fine education and it's free.

Read all the books he wants for nothing.

The scenery is hard to beat and it doesn't cost anything either.

There are a fair number of jobs available

and the pay is pretty good.

You can go surfing in the morning

and skiing in the afternoon.

We have just about every kind of sports you can think of

and some of the best coaches in the country.

We have parks,

all kinds of recreational facilities and a fine climate.

Sometimes none of these things is enough.

It takes bigger challenges and bigger excitement.

When it gets too big, then it becomes my job.

I carry a badge.

The story you are about you see is true.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

It was Thursday, October 13th. It was warm in Los Angeles.

We were working the night, watch out of Juvenile Division.

The boss is Captain Jack Morris.

My partner is Bill Gannon.

My name is Friday.

We returned to Georgia Juvenile from two routine calls.

It had been a quiet watch.

You sure look tired, Joe.

- How can you tell? - I've been watching you all night.

- You have? - Well, what do you think?

Well, I could use a cup of coffee.

- Just coffee? - That's right.

That's not enough, Joe. You need something to eat.

- I do? - You're lethargic, sluggish, depleted.

What you mean is you are getting hungry.

That's the difference between us, Joe. I keep my eye on my blood sugar level.

You do?

The safest thing a person can do is keep their eye on their blood sugar level.

- How do you manage to do that? - I just told you.

Sergeant Friday?

- Yeah? - Keefer, 2827.

We responded to a possible car stripping over on Vermont.

We found about eight of them, all boys hanging around a white Firebird.

They took off as soon as we came up.

We chased one of them all the way to his home.

- He and his mother are outside. - Yeah.

His name is Harold Rustin.

The car had been hotwired. The engine was still running.

All right. You want to bring the boy in?

- The FI card. Oh, something else. - Yeah.

We found this in his pocket.

9:10 p.m.

We advised the subject, Harold F. Rustin of his rights.

He waived his right to an attorney and said he'd talk to us.

- Do you live at this address with your parents? - Just my mother.

- How old are you? - Seventeen.

What were you doing on Vermont tonight?

Nothing.

- What's a screwdriver for? - Nothing special.

You must have a reason for carrying it around.

I was just carrying it.

Who were those other boys?

I don't know.

They got names. Now, who are they?

I never saw them before. I told you I was just hanging around.

8:30 at night with a bunch of kids you never saw before?

I met them outside the show.

- Is that where you were, the movies? - Uh-huh.

Do you always take a screwdriver to the movies with you?

Yeah, sometimes I guess.

Go on.

Well, I met these guys.

You see, we were just clowning around.

Somebody said, "Why don't we take a ride?"

It was a dumb show so I came over here with them,

but I didn't do anything.

- Then why did you run? - I don't know.

Everybody else started running.

- Do you know who owns the car? - One of them, I guess.

It's registered to a Ms. Leona Tillman.

- Was it your idea to steal the car? - No.

- Whose idea was it? - It was nobody's.

Now, didn't somebody say, "Let's grab a car and take a ride," something like that?

No.

- You all walked straight over the car from the theater? - Mm-hmm.

Did you get in and start it up?

Well now how could I do that? I don't have a key.

- Somebody else started it? - Yeah, one of the other guys.

- You just stood around and watched? - That's right.

- And didn't it strike you a little funny? - What?

The other guy didn't have a key either.

We checked the subject's name against our own files and CJI.

Harold Rustin had no record of previous arrest.

We decided to talk to his mother,

Mrs. Eunice Baron-Rustin, who was waiting outside.

9:57 p.m.

We explained the situation to the boy's mother.

Mrs. Rustin told us that she had been divorced for six years.

There were no other children.

She'd been having trouble recently with the boy but nothing serious.

Harold was an average student.

He had left the house around 7:30 that evening,

saying he was going to a movie.

What time did you expect him back?

I don't know if it was a double feature or not.

Around 11:30, I suppose.

Do you let him go out on school nights very often?

I thought so. Well, I won't stand for it.

I beg your pardon?

Trying to blame me, say that I'm at fault.

- That's what you're leading up to, isn't it? - No, ma'am.

We're just trying to get some information, Mrs. Rustin.

You must see a lot of it, thoughtless parents, negligent, cruel even.

People that don't deserve to have children.

Yes, ma'am, we do.

I have been a good mother.

I've made mistakes but you can ask anybody who knows us.

When George and I got divorced, the court gave me custody.

There was no question about it.

The judge could tell.

- I'm not like the people you usually get here. - Yes, ma'am.

It has not been easy,

a woman by herself with a growing boy on her hands.

I've had my work cut out for me,

but I've given Harold love and attention.

I've always seen that he is dressed properly,

that he eats the right things.

I worry about him.

I've done everything I can do.

I've been expecting something like this.

I knew it was coming.

He's been giving you trouble at home?

Harold is getting harder to handle all the time.

I don't like what I see ahead of me.

I've told him time and again, I've pleaded with him.

There's no use.

It's genetic.

Is that so?

It's inherited.

He takes after his father.

Yes, ma'am.

That's where I made my mistake.

Is there anything you can do?

We can try. Sometimes it works.

- What's that? - We can give him the 40-cent tour.

10:15 p.m.

We met with Lt. Bill Hall, the watch commander,

and Sgt. Bob Parker, the watch supervisor.

They agreed we didn't have enough evidence to detain Harold Rustin.

We took the subject on a tour at the Georgia facilities.

An important part of a juvenile officer's job is the way he

handles a young offender's first contact with the law.

If the officer is lucky, he can get through to him.

He may prevent any repetition.

You never know but you keep trying.

That's what it's like, huh?

That's it. Now, do you understand the booking procedure?

Yeah.

- The fingerprinting? - Uh-huh.

How we take the mug shots, the booking numbers, and all that?

Yes, sir.

And you got a good look at those cells, didn't you?

- And the six kids inside? - Yes, sir.

Now, what do you think, Harold?

I don't want any part of it.

- Those other six boys. - Yes, sir?

Do you think any of them did?

Can I take him home now?

Not just yet, ma'am.

We'd like you to hear this too, Mrs. Rustin.

Now, you're feeling pretty impressed right now

but that may wear off in a few days.

You may start to think to yourself it

wasn't too bad. Nothing much happened to me.

You may start to brag about it.

You'll bump into those kids again and they'll pat you on the back.

You'll be a hero for keeping your mouth shut.

Now, this is your first time in trouble.

We don't want to give you a police record.

What do you want to do when you grow up?

He's been talking about being an engineer.

Yeah. I've always been pretty good with my hands.

We know.

It's tough enough getting in the counties these days.

- A police record won't help, will it? - No, sir.

Now, you know the difference between right and wrong

and you know when you're breaking the law. You don't have any reason to.

Nobody does but you don't even have a reason you can kid yourself with.

This is a Form 910, a Juvenile Contact Report.

We filled one of these out on you and what happened tonight.

A copy is going to stay in our files.

If you're ever in trouble with the police again, somebody will

pull this out and see that you were picked up once under suspicious circumstances.

This does not give you a police record.

It's just for information and guidance.

Now, if you're smart, you'll take it as a warning

and you'll see to it that this is the last

piece of paper we ever have to fill out on you and it's easy enough.

Just stay out of trouble.

All right, you can take him home now, Mrs. Rustin.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Don't you let us see you back here again.

Listen to him, son. I've had enough heartache.

- Hey, Sergeant. - Yeah.

What about my screwdriver?

- What about it? - I want it back.

Wednesday, November 2nd, 4:00 p.m.

Bill and I reported in to work as usual.

- Joe. - Yeah, Bob?

I took a couple of calls for you.

This one wanted to know if you could drop

by tomorrow and see her during school hours.

Thank you.

Mrs. Rustin.

Thursday, November 3rd, 2:05 p.m.

We had made arrangements that morning to talk to Mrs. Rustin.

We drove to 3331 Valley Boulevard, one of the better residential sections.

I'm sorry to get you out here like this but I don't know what else to do.

I'm at my wit's end.

Well, what can we do for you, Mrs. Rustin?

It's Harold. You've got to help me.

Yes, ma'am, if we can.

After that night, after you talked to him, he was fine for about a week or so.

You frightened him.

He listened to me.

He stayed home.

He was just fine.

But the last little while, it's gotten worse than ever.

I can't control him.

He just comes and goes.

He stays out to all hours.

The other night he simply walked out without a word.

He didn't come back until after midnight.

Do you have any idea where he's going, what he's doing?

Shows, hanging around.

That's all he tells me.

Well, does he mention any names who he's running around with?

I haven't any idea.

You know, there are some fine children here in this neighborhood,

perfectly lovely girl just two doors down.

I've encouraged him to get friendly with them but he won't.

You've got to pick him up again.

Can you tell us what he's done?

You mean has he broken the law in any way?

Yes, ma'am, that's right.

No, not that I know of and I certainly wouldn't inform on my own son.

I just want you to pick him up and talk to him.

Frighten him again.

I told him that you've been keeping careful watch on him

and that's what you do if he didn't behave himself.

I don't think he believed me.

I suppose I didn't have any right to do that.

No, ma'am.

Well, you can understand.

I need some kind of hold over him.

Well, Mrs. Rustin, you've got a pretty good one already.

How's that?

You're his mother.

11:35 p.m.

We got a call to report to Central Receiving Hospital.

AID had brought in four juveniles involved in a traffic accident.

The doctor checked this one over and released him.

You'll have to talk to the others tomorrow if they're able to talk.

- What happened? - Stolen car, brand-new Corvette.

We clocked them at 118 on the freeway.

They went off the road and took out about 80 feet of steel fence,

tore the car apart.

I wonder any of them are still alive.

Andrew Raynor, 16.

- Are my folks here yet? - They'll be notified.

I told him his rights. He's agreed to talk.

- Where did you get the car? - I told him already.

- Tell us. - Outside the store in Western Avenue.

- Who was driving? - I was.

Tell them what you told us, the whole thing.

This afternoon after school we were just fooling around, seven or eight of us.

We made this deal.

It was Harold who started it, Harold Rustin.

What kind of deal?

We'd start out at 8:00 and each one of us grab a car then we'd

meet on the freeway on the Melrose on-ramp at 9:00.

That gave us an hour, you see.

Then we drag out the freeway headed west.

It didn't count unless you got a car that could do over 100.

That's what it was.

Where is Harold Rustin now?

Him? He never showed up.

We hung around and waited for him.

After a while, we took off by ourselves.

I had to make one run anyway.

Why? What for?

Harold said I couldn't do it.

He said I didn't have the class.

- Are you going to talk to him? - That's right.

- Then you'd tell him. - Tell him what?

How fast I was going.

They clocked me at 118.

Yeah, you sure showed him, didn't you?

We continued questioning Andrew Raynor.

He gave us the names of the other boys.

All of them were students at Milton Fletcher High School.

The subject was booked under 602 WIC for 10,851 VC

and released to the custody of his parents.

12:10 a.m.

Bill and I left Georgia Juvenile and drove to the Rustin home.

Harold is asleep? His light went out over an hour ago.

How long has he been home?

Oh, since before dinner.

- Is anything wrong? - There's been an accident.

Why I'm sorry but he's been here all evening.

I don't know whether you've had a chance to talk to him yet or not.

- No, we haven't. - You haven't?

- No, ma'am. - Well, whatever it is, he's been as good as gold.

Mrs. Rustin asked us not to disturb her son

and we agreed to talk to him later.

Friday, November 4th, 9:15 a.m.

Bill picked me up at home and we drove to Milton Fletcher High School.

In the office of the Vice Principal Phillip Geiger,

we interrogated the boys whose names we had gotten

the preceding night from Andrew Raynor.

They all had been at home or with friends that evening.

They all denied any prior knowledge of the car theft or

having attempted to steal a car themselves.

We interrogated Harold Rustin.

He admitted having made a joking remark about stealing cars and

having a challenged drag race on the freeway.

He said he was surprised that anybody took it seriously.

- He got frightened. That's what happened. - Yeah.

You know, I knew who you wanted to talk to almost before you asked me.

I've had him in here before.

- Have you had much trouble with him? - Oh, a certain amount.

They're pretty careful around school.

You hardly ever see one of them by themselves.

- It's always a group, three, four, or five. - Yes, sir.

One of them alone, two even, won't cause you much trouble.

They all come from good socioeconomic backgrounds.

They have no reason to get into trouble but you put a bunch of them together,

let them get started showing off,

each one trying to top the others.

118 on the freeway.

Hmm, yeah.

It's pretty hard to top that.

Saturday, January 7th, eight weeks went by.

We had no further contact with Harold Rustin.

Two cars were stolen in the general area during the Christmas vacation.

Both were late model, high performance sports cars and both

were recovered several miles away without any damage.

Both cars had been wiped clean of fingerprints.

3:05 p.m.

A woman is calling in a complaint, a birthday party going on next door to her.

What's the matter, too noisy?

A bunch of kids ran their car up in her front porch.

3:07 p.m. We left Georgia Juvenile

and drove over to 1217 West Mayberry Street.

It took us 16 minutes to reach the scene of the complaint.

- Friday and Gannon, Juvenile. - Lathrop, 2812.

There were three carloads of them, maybe 12, 14 boys.

We're trying to get the names and all right now.

Two of the cars took off as soon as we turned into the block.

They really had a patch out there.

This one right here was poked up

on the porch like this when we got here.

What about license numbers on the other two cars?

The boys don't know. They stole them.

Get your heads up.

I've seen you before. You go to Fletcher High, don't you?

The kid next door, he got cut up pretty bad.

Friday, Juvenile.

They had a glass door back there and somebody shoved him right through.

We've called an ambulance.

- Who owns this house? - I do.

My name is Friday, Juvenile Division.

Mike Chatterton. Young hoodlums.

You want to tell me what happened here?

It's my daughter's birthday. Nora, honey.

She's 16. We're giving her a little party, maybe a dozen kids, no more.

We didn't want anything big.

But about half hour ago, maybe a little longer, a car pulled up.

After that, I couldn't keep track of what was going on.

They started fighting on in the back, throwing the girls in the pool.

- I tried to break it up and one of them hit me. - How did they get in?

Well, the first bunch they knocked on the

door and asked if they could join the party.

- I didn't want to be a stop short. - I didn't want to do it.

I didn't want them here.

Well, they seemed polite enough so I let them in.

There must have been another car somewhere.

A bunch more came pushing right behind me.

- A lot came in the back too. - Yeah.

Hopped over the fence. They threw me in the pool first.

That's what started the fighting. They tore the place up and everything.

And my kitchen, you want to see it.

I don't know how long it went on. They busted up the front porch.

They got scared when that young fellow went through the patio door

and they cleared out in a big hurry.

- Did you recognize any of them? - All of them.

Creeps. I go to school with them.

- Fletcher High? - Yes.

The absolute creeps of the world.

I get a lot of names, Joe. Some of them are familiar.

Ms. Chatterton here can give you some more.

- Be all right if I look around, sir? - Go ahead.

Bill.

I never noticed that before.

Are there any guns missing?

Oh, yes, 12 gauge over and a shotgun.

Bill called in the names of the subjects and the fact

that one of them was now probably armed.

He also requested a police photographer.

I questioned the teenagers who had been party guests of the Chattertons.

They all readily identified the 14 juveniles

who had crashed the party

and agreed that Harold Rustin had been among them.

I took their names and addresses and arranged with the neighbor

for them to telephone their parents and to be picked up.

Lieutenant wants us back at the office to bring in some kids in now.

Yeah.

About 15 minutes ago, a few miles down the boulevard,

a green Sedan full of juveniles pulled up at a bus stop.

It's senseless, Joe. They had given a couple of men there a hard time.

One of the men talked back. I guess he said something they didn't like.

Absolutely, senseless. Never saw the man before.

Yeah.

Blew his head off.

4:18 p.m.

Bill and I returned to the office.

About four blocks down the boulevard from the bus stop,

we spied these kids running along the sidewalk.

The car was just sitting out in the street two blocks behind them.

The gun was lying on the front seat.

Homicide been notified?

Yeah, the gun has been printed and photographed.

- Which one is the oldest? - This one. He's 17.

We told them all their rights and understand them.

All right. Would you take these two down the hallways?

Right.

- What's your name? - Vern Bayliss.

You've been in a fight?

You crashed the party at the Chatterton house.

- Yeah, but I didn't do it. - Do what?

Well, shoot that guy. I swear.

I didn't think he'd do a crazy thing like that.

- Who did it? - I don't know.

- Come on. - I can't tell you.

Yes, you can and you will.

You know who was with you and he's got a name. We want to hear it.

Come on. Let's have it.

Harold Rustin.

All three boys definitely identified Harold Rustin

as the one who had fired the shot.

Vern Bayliss had been driving the car.

They had gotten panicky, ditched the car, and started running.

They had no idea where Harold Rustin was.

4:45 p.m.

We had a hunch where we might find him.

We drove out to the Rustin home.

When we got there the front door was ajar.

Rustin.

Rustin.

All right, Rustin, come on down here.

You heard me, move.

Now, come on over here.

Yes, sir, I'm coming.

Listen, you want to get my ma? She's out somewhere. You find her, all right?

Yeah, we'll do that.

Harold, did you leave the front door open?

Hi, Ma. I'm glad you're home.

What are these policemen doing here?

Your boy is under arrest, Mrs. Rustin.

- For what? - Suspicion to murder.

Dear God in Heaven!

Oh, come on, Ma. Don't listen to these guys.

Are you sure?

Yes, ma'am, we're sure.

Oh, Harold.

Why?

Why?

Haven't I given you everything?

What more could I have done for you?

Answer me, Harold.

Answer me!

I don't think he can, Mrs. Rustin.

Why can't he?

He doesn't have one.

The subject was found guilty of murder in the second degree.

Because of his age, however,

he was remanded to the custody

of the California Youth Authority.